“Then God said. “Let there be light,” and there was light.”
Genesis 1:3 (NRSV)
This is the season when I stomp my feet and clap, “Let there be light.” NOW!
I pore over garden catalogs. Scrawl a plan for my plot of dirt. I imagine the musky smell of damp earth, the airy brush of mayflies, and purple phlox carpeting the woods.
But when I cling to ONLY spring days, I expose myself to a winter of discontent. I miss a cardinal who lights on a bird feeder. I overlook a squirrel’s wit when it jumps from one roof to another. I fail to see the gold fingers of a bare willow.
Our Creator, on the other hand, says everything belongs. He opens a universe to darkness and light, night and day, winter and spring, dying and rising. His fiat embraces rhythm, and the cosmos thrives.
I return to my eastern window, resting in a God who holds it all. Darkness is too much for me, as it often is, but our Wise One embraces it all—and me.
Prayer:
Creator, open my eyes to see the wide and wise rhythm of life. Amen
Question:
How can I open myself to gifts offered in darkness and light?
Written by Deborah Jansen
